More than we Deserve
by ktCatsbone
Summary: A darker take on a heroic gesture in episode 23 of TDWT. Inspired by a drawing, more info inside Heather/Alejandro
1. Heather

NOTE: I was inspired by this picture by MirrorCover on Deviantart ( art/Alejandro-Protects-Heather-177345179) which was inspired by episode 23: Aww . . . Drumheller. To me, it looks like Alejandro's in quite a bit of pain, so I took it to mean maybe he protected Heather a bit more than he expected. So, this is what I think would have been an interesting twist if the show was intended for an older audience.

It will be a two parter, the first part from Heather's perspective.

And don't worry, The chipmunk story has not been abandoned. I'm just have a touch trouble finishing it. Don't worry, I've got a plan though.

More than we Deserve

(Heather's POV)

"Happy birthday Cooooooody! I made it myself!"

It took me about five seconds to see what was wrong with this picture. All the sparks from her stupid cake were dropping straight into the oil slick.

"SIERRA! LOOK OUT!" We all screamed.

"What?!" The dimwit barely flinched. The vermin dashing from the plane had more sense. Then . . .

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

It was like the earthquake challenge times a million. I felt the intense heat and turbulence rattle around me. Chunks of cruddy flight ware crashed down like meteors. I ducked and put my arms up, protecting my newly grown hair. Doing so, I swore I felt even more heat just behind my back.

When the dust cleared, I heard Alejandro's obnoxious breathing down the back of my neck. He had obviously pulled a last minute hero act to gain brownie points.

"Thanks a lot Superman," I roll my eyes. "But I don't need saving, so if you could just mo–"

His choking gasp made me whip my head around. Alejandro was clawing at his chest. A huge piece of jagged metal was jutting out from the center of his chest. Blood was already oozing out in an alarming amount.

"Dios mio . . . that really hurts . . ." he moaned, slumping down on one knee.

"You stupid moron!" I spun around and lowered him all the way down to his side, "You didn't have to–"

That's when I saw it. The piece of metal had gone in through his back, so far that it had punctured through the front. If he hadn't been there, it would have gotten me.

"You— you—" I spluttered.

"Don't say . . . I never . . . did anything . . . for you . . ." Alejandro gasped, blood dribbling from his lips.

"Oh my god!" I screamed like a child. "Chris, call nine one one! Now! Chris?"

The worlds best host was screaming at Sierra for destroying his crappy plane, booting her off the game.

"Christopher McClain! Get your ass over here!" I roared.

"What the hell is it Heather?" Chris stomped over. "What's a bigger disaster than my blown up pla–OH DEAR GOD!" Chris flapped his wrists in a panic before wrestling his cell phone out of his pocket. "We have an emergency! I am about to get seriously sued!"

I rolled my eyes before stripping my shirt off.

"Wow Chiquita . . ." Alejandro smirked with a grimace. "I usually . . . have to . . . get a girl drunk . . . before . . . she . . . strips . . ."

"Can it." I snarl, tearing my shirt in two before packing them tightly around the metal to quell the bleeding.

"Thanks . . . Heather."

"Don't talk, save your strength." I flinched as Alejandro hacked up another blot of blood. He then shivered, despite the desert heat. "Shit, you can't get cold. You will not go into shock on me."

"Always bossy . . ." Alejandro said weakly.

I looked around for something, anything to keep him warm until help arrived. Chris was screaming into his cell phone for help (I really hoped he remembered to dial), while Cody was pulling a charred Sierra from the ruble. Everything else was scattered or burnt to a cinder. The only thing that could provide heat was . . . my own body.

"Don't think anything of this," I growled. I scooted up as close as I could to his chiseled chest without impaling myself and draped my arms around his shoulders.

"This . . . is . . . nice," he winced.

"I said shut it," I snapped, "do you want to die?"

"If it means . . . you'll live . . . then yes . . . querida."

"What the hell does that mean?" I snarl. "Save me and insult me. We're a better match than Duncan and Courtney."

"My love . . ." Suddenly, Alejandro's eyes rolled and his head fell hard onto the ground.

"No way! No way!" I slapped his cheeks roughly. "You are not going to die on me!"

His eyes flickered open again and this time, they were full of tears. "I'm . . . so sorry . . ."

"For what?" I hated myself for it, but I was tearing up too. "You saved my life. And after I–"

"After you what?"

"Oh, just lied to you and voted for you instead, but that's not the point, you go on."

"Bruja . . ." Alejandro snarled, blood still falling from his lips.

"I know that was an insult."

"You got it," he glared. "But still . . . I wish . . . I could . . . have . . . have . . ."

"Stay with me!" I demanded. "Whatever you have to say, spit it out already!"

"You . . . Heather . . . are worth . . . saving . . ." Alejandro gurgled, the blood really collecting thickly, "Like no . . . other girl . . . ever here."

"Th-thank you," I sniffed, despite myself, "You can be nice when you're not a raging manipulative womanizing asshole."

"Back at you," he smirked, then shuddered weakly. I held him tighter, trying to lessen his shivering and ignoring the blood soaking through my makeshift bandage to dirty my skin. Luckily, just then, lights and squealing sirens signaled the arrival of the ambulance.

"Come on Alejandro, " I coaxed with a prod in the cheek, "you gotta stay awake. Help's here. Please try. Come on Latin loser, stay awake."

"If I could . . . I would . . . "

"No, no, no, no, no," I cupped his face and forced his eyes on mine. "I will not lose you. There's no one else worth competing with."

"Miss, please move out of the way, we need to get this man to the hospital."

"You are not making me move, I'm going with him. I– he needs me."

"Fine, get in the back." The medical personal began swarming on Alejandro like beetles, pushing me away. I got up, knees shaking and stumbled into the back of the ambulance. Tears began pouring out of my eyes, no mater how hard I tried to prevent them.

"You big moron, Alejandro," I sniffled pathetically, "You're still wrong. I'm not worth saving."

Just then, they pushed Alejandro into the ambulance on a gurney. He was growing so pale and the shreds of my t-shirt were drenched in blood.

"You can't go out like this," I pleaded, clutching at his hand, "We need to compete for the million together. You deserve that much for saving me."


	2. Alejandro

NOTE: Well, here's the second, and last part of this story. I must say prefer part one, but I still enjoy this.

Read after the end for some fun facts and a serious question.

(Alejandro's POV)

I could feel my head pounding like a girls heartbeat and my chest ached something horrible. I tried to lift my head, but it was like trying to pick up Owen.

"Stay down you big lug."

_Ah, mi angél's voice. _I tore my eyelids open and was immediately blinded by bright white light. I blinked frantically until the hospital room swam into focus. I was in a tiny bed in all white sheets and some ugly machines next to me were beeping out a dull rhythm.

"Finally, you're awake."

I turned my head slowly. Heather was sitting in a chair next to me, mascara streaked down her smooth cheeks. When our gaze met, she pulled her hand away from mine.

I smirked. "Worried, were you niña?"

"No! I mean . . . well . . . ok, yes I was worried." Heather scowled, turning her pretty face away. "I mean, you did save my life."

Remembering exactly what happened, I looked down at my sculpted chest. It was encased in bandages all the way around and hurt like a bitch. Luckily, my IV numbed the worst of the pain. It was nothing compared to earlier.

"Shit . . ." I groaned. "I guess I'm out of the running for the million. Can't exactly compete with a hole in my chest."

"You're not the only one you know."

"What are you talking about amor?" I asked, completely perplexed.

Heather rolled her eyes and grabbed a remote off the side table. She switched on the TV above my head and hit the mute button. And there was Cody, in front of a giant volcano, holding up a metal case, no doubt stuffed full of money. Sierra was holding onto him like he was a ragdoll and showering him in kisses.

"¡Que demonios es eso!" I cursed, "That little pipsqueak won? Then why the hell didn't you compete? It was your dream, wasn't it?"

Heather looked down at her feet. "I meant what I said before. There's no point in winning against a sure thing. I didn't want to compete against anyone except you."

"You liar," I growled, "I would have been voted off yesterday, thanks to you, if it hadn't been for that idiot fangirl."

"I shouldn't have done that." Heather said this through gritted teeth, as though it pained her. "It was low . . ."

"And conniving and wicked," I grinned. "A true competitor. I would have expected nothing less from you."

A tiny smile perked her face. But only for a moment. "They wouldn't have waited anyway. Chris said he couldn't waste more time or money on waiting for you since you had already eaten into the medical bill. So he told Cody to take off and me to follow. But I refused, and they went on."

"I believe that." I rubbed the back of my neck and looked back at the TV. Chris was on screen and seemed to be making an announcement. "Turn it up a moment."

Heather obliged.

". . . and, in conclusion, the past season has been filled with the most intense drama ever! I want to thank all the interns sacrificed this season, our brave idiots– I mean contestants and, of course, me, for being the best host ever. So, wrapping up our two day season finale, which was boring with only one competitor, I'm Chris McLain and I'll see you next time for more Total Drama . . . hey do we know what we're doing next season?" The camera rapidly cut out.

"Ooh . . ." Heather growled. "I'll kill that poser. He promised to at least mention your condition in his closing remarks."

"Wait . . ." Something didn't quite add up. "How long was I out?"

"Two days."

"Dios mio," I slumped my head back deeper into the pillow. Then glanced back at Heather. As well as her streaked eyes, she was still covered in dirt and dust from the desert.

"You never left my side, did you Heather?" I asked.

She gave me a dark glare, then shook her head.

"I knew you cared," I smiled.

"I started when you did!" She snapped back. "I – I mean, how many guys will take a shard through the chest for their girls?"

"So . . . you're my girl now?"

"What? No!"

"Come on amor. Admit it! You are crazy about me."

"So are about half the cast and half the country by now." Heather looked vicious, but there was a tremble in her voice that I didn't fail to notice.

"Did the massive hemorrhaging prove nothing to you? Yes, in the beginning I flirted with all the girls in order to use them to go farther in the game. But the more time I spent with you, the more you intrigued me–"

"Because I refused you?"

"Well . . . yes," I blushed ever so slightly. "No girl before has ever not melted at my feet–"

"Only because they lacked a proper brain."

"¡Cierate la boca por un momento por favor!"

"Speak English!"

"Shut up for one moment please," I repeated, glaring. "Look, I am really trying to be sincere with you. As time went by, I realized you were so much more than the usual girls I normally meet. You were strong, confident, sexy as hell and had a heart as dark as mine."

Heather finally began smiling again.

"If it weren't for this twist of fate, we would be fighting for the millions right now, I know it. But I would give up a billion dollars and take a dozen more slabs of steel to the chest if it meant you were happy and safe."

"Really?"

I cupped her chin with my fingertips. And whispered, "Hell no. But I still want you Heather. And that is the truth."

"I hate you so much," Heather sighed, glaring, beaming and tearing up all at once.

"Right back at you amor."

DING!

"What?!" We both whipped our heads around, a stupid move on my part for it really hurt my neck. A series of cameras were peeking through the door, as well as a smirking Chris McLain.

"You don't really think we'd abandon you guys so quickly?" he beamed.

"You were quick to when he was unconscious!" Heather snarled.

"I had to triple check with the lawyers to make sure we aren't liable. Luckily, we're not. No suing for you."

"Damn that contract!" I ground my teeth.

"You're the one that signed it," Chris quipped. "And your contract also states that because you missed the finale, you are short two songs from your season total. And we need a certain number of songs for our producers."

"You cannot be serious," I groaned in disbelief. "It is because of your show that I was unconscious for two days. I am bed ridden and weak." Heather rolled her eyes, but took my hand again.

"Your mouth still works Alejandro," Chris scolded, "but because you are in the hospital, we'll cut it down to one. Now get going, you're on live and you don't want to look worse than you already do."

"No way McClain!" Heather snapped. "Find new suckers."

"Now wait a moment querida," I gave her hand a firm squeeze. "If these fine folks demand one last serenade, we must provide it."

Heather looked at me incredulously, but a quick whisper conferred with her my plan. She grinned and I pulled away, planting a kiss on her neck. I then signaled to the tech guy and the music began.

(* * *)

"Happy now Chris?"

Chris wiped a tear from his eye. "That was seriously beautiful guys," he turned toward the camera, "and to have all that live, that was a treat for the world."

"Indeed it was," I leered. "And you, Chris, will never forget it."

"Of course they w– wait what are you talking about?"

"Oh, just that that wasn't an original song," Heater piped up, "We knew you wouldn't figure out. You never keep up with anything remotely popular. Which means the song is also recent. And expensive to broadcast."

"Your bosses are going to be pissed when they get ahold of you," I laughed, "I dare say, you'll lose your job."

"What?!" Chris exclaimed in a panic. "No no! Come on guys. Let's talk this out, make a deal. Pretty please. Don't joke with me like that. It isn't funny. Guys? Guys!"

I completely tuned him out. We had our revenge and I had finally won over mi angél by saving her life. Wincing, I leaned up and pulled Heather toward me. Taking her hand, I placed it gently on top of the bandages on my chest.

"I meant what I said Heather," I reassured her, "you are worth saving."

"I'm starting to remember why," she smiled back.

Grinning smugly, I kissed her with all the fiery passion I could muster. She responded just as eagerly, fighting to control the kiss. Of course, I couldn't let her win. As Chris kept up his pleading, we continued to fight. As I know we will always.

**Moral: The despicable among us will always deserve each other.**

ENDING NOTES: The song part went through three revisions. At first I was planning on writing an original piece. I thought it would be like poetry, which I enjoy. Turns out it's extremely hard, so I scrapped the idea. Then I was gonna look up a song for them to sing, but I couldn't find one that really conveyed all the emotions the two of them had. So that was done. So I decided to leave it up to you guys to fill in the song you thought would fit that moment.

Ok, enough about that. Now a question. After I finally finish the Chipmunk story, I was planning to do some one/twoshots from the total drama series, but I can't decide what couple I want to do first. Why don't you tell me what you want to see?

:^)


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